


What We Were Told and What Was True

by Emma61488



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 05:58:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma61488/pseuds/Emma61488
Summary: Regina writes in her journal about a painful loss. Sad short story. Will there be a happy ending for Regina? Let's see ;)





	What We Were Told and What Was True

Author note: I just quickly got this down after it being in my head for some time. I hope it’s not too terribly written, lol. I didn’t have a beta, and wrote this working the nightshift on very little sleep, so please be kind. I would love to know what you guys think though. As you may already know, comments help motivate writers. Thank you for reading my work and I hope you enjoy it. 

What We Were Told and What Was True

There was a task that had been assigned to her was daunting and Regina was dreading it terribly. However, she knew she needed the outlet. She was drowning in the currents of her emotions and she was desperate for relief. If she needed to write down her feelings to get it, she would. 

After dinner, and completing the ritual chores she could put it off no longer. With a cup of hot tea she entered her office, lit a candle, opened the window letting in the sounds of pouring rain. Truly, one couldn’t want for better writing conditions. Sitting at her desk, the journal stared mockingly at her as if it knew how much it anxiety it caused her. It had been sitting here for weeks, untouched. Opening the cover she wondered if maybe she should have had something stronger to drink. Shaking away that thought, she picked up the pen. Would this little thing truly be able to provide the relief she sought? No harm in trying, her therapist said. Her therapist was woefully incorrect, this could prove to hurt very much. 

\-------------  
Dear dairy.

It was a year ago today. A year ago today, my life was ripped from me, torn to shreds then returned in tatters. A year ago, the men had come bearing the news of her fate. Softly, they spoke the words that destroyed my happiness. The words “Missing in action” and “ presumed dead” fell on me like fire, scorching my entire body. It was a terrifying thing to find that in a single small moment, existence, even of one so profoundly loved can simply be stolen away. 

I, at first was in complete denial. There had to have been a mistake somewhere. For weeks I called the base almost daily, sometimes more than once. I knew, I just knew she was out there and they weren’t looking hard enough. I was convinced that somehow I would have felt it if she had truly died, the earth would have shaken or the heavens fallen. Convinced, that our bond was so great, that some mystical power would have given me warning. I knew because this sort of thing didn’t happen to us. It couldn't. We were that loving family that was always going to be together. But then we weren’t. They finally had to demand that I stop calling. After some time, there was a funeral, even then I refused to give up on her. I couldn’t, I absolutely could not give up. There was a stone, it had her name beautifully engraved on it, but she wasn’t there. It was false and I hated it.

The days after blurred together. I slowly began to realize that she was not coming home, and I would have to continue on alone with our son. How he survived the loss of her and the wreckage of me I will never know. I had fallen into such a dark place, not even Henry could pull me out. Terrible nightmares filled my sleep, images of her beautiful body lying somewhere undiscovered in the darkness. Her eyes… Her open eyes, cold and empty haunted me endlessly. 

Time was nothing anymore. Time had been how we would have mapped out our life together, how we would have planned our future. It made no difference now. Time did not exist. Our poor son, he kept going. He kept moving forward, trying to keep some of the pieces of our lives in place. I know he did it only for me, he knew without him at least, I’d have no reason to exist. So he kept going, towing me along when he could. 

Things started to get better when we started going to see her. At first, I hated the idea. It felt as if I were betraying her or giving up on her. Henry begged me, he begged and begged then broke down and begged some more. I had to finally give it. When we did go, we would just sit there in silence, never knowing what to say. After some time, spending time with the stone became a sort of comfort. Of course I knew she wasn’t there, but it was, the nearest I could get to her. 

I see her in everything. Sometimes, in the morning, in that place at the end of sleep but just before you wake, I feel her. The pressure of her in the bed beside me, the warmth of her breath on my skin. I feel her. Then expecting to see her face next to mine when I open my eyes, only to find nothing. Emptiness, like she had never been there at all. I am afraid of that. I am afraid that one day, life will have gone on too long without her and i’ll forget. Forget that once I loved and was loved by one of the most beautiful creatures that walked this earth. Forget the softness of her voice, the sweetness of her laughter or the peace that filled her smile. I’m afraid. 

The day of our wedding anniversary came. The day that she and I shared such joy was now the day I dreaded the most. It hurt because the world nor anyone but Henry and I, acknowledged any difference. In my mind, the entire planet should have stopped turning to recognize that she was missing from it. That such a beautiful person had just vanished, like she had never been there in the first place. But no matter how I felt, the world continued to turn as it always did. Nothing slowed or changed, the newspaper still came, the mail was still delivered and everything in the world was normal. For everyone else but us. As the year went on, Henry started coming less and less, then he stopped coming altogether. He of course still misses her, but he had his own way of dealing with the grief. 

We miss her. This year had been incredibly difficult without her. So difficult that at times the light, any light was impossible to see through the dark. How is one supposed to go back to life as it was with such a significant part of it missing? Looking toward the year to come, finding any source of joy seems unlikely. Henry and I find it difficult to find joy in each others company alone. It’s not quite that we ignore one another, it’s more… More like we each fill our time, and have little time for just talk. It’s probably, a subconscious attempt to avoid conversation so she isn’t inevitably brought up. I will say, he is attentive. If he sees I’m having a difficult day, he will do his best to support me, to pull me up and out of whatever I am feeling. Day by day we get by, and we will keep going…  
\-----------------  
With a deep sigh, Regina put down her pen and closed the journal. It wasn’t much, but it was some. In her mind this was a success, she had releases emotions that had been cemented in her heart since that day. That had been the main goal after all. She would take the win. 

Another week had gone by since the journal entry. Her therapist had told her she should go back and read through it. To her, this seemed silly. Why should she go back and read it over again, she knows what was there. She had written it. And she wasn’t very keen on revisiting all the emotions that came with it. So she skipped that part and congratulated herself on completing the first task at all. 

Days went on as they did, nothing truly changing aside from the weather. The monotony of work, the vacant drives to the emptiness at home. Every night wondering if this was to be their life now. So much was missing. 

It was three weeks after she had written in her journal that she had received a very unexpected call. 

“Hello,” Regina answered politely. 

“Is this Regina Mills?” 

“Swan-Mills. Yes, this is she.”

“This is Sergeant Boothe. I have some news regarding your wife Emma Swan.”

“You mean my late wife.” She answered flatly. She had gotten these calls before. They were aways to provide some minute detail regarding Emma disappearance. One that was in fact too minute to even be considered a clue as to what her fate had been. 

Before he could continue she spoke again. “Although I appreciate your diligence in providing me with every single detail about my late wife. I’d rather not be dragged through all that emotional turmoil and pain with every scrap of new information you drudge up. Unless it is something significant, please don’t call me.”

With that, she hung up the phone. Within fifteen seconds, it rang again. 

Irritated, she answered, but before she could assault the man again for unnecessarily disturbing her peace he spoke.  
“Its significant.” He started. 

Then after a pause as if to add dramatic effect, he spoke words she thought she’d never hear.

“We found her.” 

Looking back, if she had to dissect her thoughts and feelings at this moment she could not. Bombarded with so many emotions and all conflicting. Voices in her head shouting out question after question, hope after hope. But on top of it all, the voice that rang that rang out the loudest. Oh god please let this be real. 

“You are sure? Is she.” Regina could hardly bring herself to say it. “Is she, alive?”

“I am sure. Anshe is alive. I will give you the details when you get here.”

“Where?” 

“Come to Boston General and I will meet you at the front.” 

The call had ended, for a moment she stood absolutely still, wondering. Should she dare to let herself hope? Even with the man confirmation, parts of her mind doubt still loomed. Afraid of the pain that would inevitably come if for some reason this was a mistake. Should she dare to hope?

She looked at her watch. Henry wasn’t home yet and wouldn’t be for some time. She didn’t want to give him hope if there was none. Yanking her purse from the table, fighting her doubts she had to know. The drive was short, less than ten minutes, but the mind does conjure. She parked, but sat in the vehicle, her body resisting her. More than anything she didn’t want to revisit the pain she had gone through. That pain had threatened to break her utterly. So her body resisted. Finally hope had won. If there was even the smallest chance to have her back she had to take it, she would deal with the effects, whatever they may be, later. 

Just after walking through the hospital doors and tall man in a pressed uniform approached her. With a grim smile he greeted her. Understanding the no bullshit situation, he motioned for her to follow. Passing through the corridors seem long, she felt timid and vulnerable. With each step her stomach lurched, somehow knowing in the next moments, whatever the outcome, there would be a myriad of emotions. Then as they always did, the moment came.  
The man turned into room. Following she paused at the entrance, the number of the room was 509. This number was significant but just now the reason was lost on her. 

The curtain was drawn, from where she was standing she could hear the steady sounds of machines coming from the room. Should she dare to hope? She drew on her courage and took the steps forward stopping at the curtain then slowly pulling back. 

There she was. With an audible gasp her purse hit the floor and her body surged forward like metal to a magnet. Tears flooded Regina’s eyes as they roamed the woman in the bed. Her eyes were closed, mouth masked, tubes, wires and bandages. Skin was covered in bruises, scars and marks, but her chest rose and fell. The machine next to her steadily sounded and at that moment Regina loved that machine. It was proof that her heart was beating. 

Not trusting her knees to hold her up, she seated herself in the chair next to the bed. Holding back a river of tears, she leaned down laying her head in the curve of Emma’s neck to breathe her in. Her peace was interrupted when she felt a light touch to her head. Raising, she saw the green eyes she has been thirsting for. In that second everything from the past year evaporated and she was filled completely with everything that had been missing. 

It was a little over a year ago when Regina’s life was ripped from her, torn to shreds then returned in tatters. Tattered or torn, Regina was gracious she had been returned at all.


End file.
